


Coping Mechanism

by eirenical (chibi1723)



Category: Being Human, Being Human (UK)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Moving On, Obsessive Behaviour, Obsessive-Compulsive, Off-screen Character Death, Season/Series 04, Slice of Life, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, old habits die hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/pseuds/eirenical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Routines.  Precision.  Focus.  An obsessive attention to detail.  A tightrope balancing act of care and dedication.  These were the things that kept Hal clean, that held his bloodlust in check, that kept him from being a danger to every living thing around him, including himself.  The days were long gone when he could live his life with any sort of freedom, when he could relax into his days and laugh with a friend... when he could lower his guard and let someone else take the reins from him for a time.  There had been Leo and Pearl, once... but they were gone, now.  Now, it was only Hal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping Mechanism

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Coping Mechanism  
>  **Fandom:** Being Human (UK)  
>  **Pairing:** Gen, hints of Hal/Tom, Hal/Annie, Hal/Annie/Tom, if you choose to read it that way. ^_^  
>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Warnings:** Angst. Takes place in Series 4, kind of ignoring most of the major series plot.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** _Being Human_ does not belong to me. It belongs to Toby Whitehouse and all the other writers, producers, etc., who work with him. No harm was meant. I'm just playing with these guys, I’ll put them back where I found them when I’m done... more or less intact. ^_~
> 
>  ** _January 15, 2013:_** THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, AGAIN. YES, YOU. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. You can't handle the end of Series 3? Suuuuuure. Just skip to Series 4. No harm done... Pfft. Yeah, RIGHT. O_o;;; Ironically, I originally got interested in BH because of Hal and Tom. I didn't even know that Mitchell and George existed back then. And I got walloped so hard by my love for Mitchell and George that I forgot why I'd gotten interested in the first place. Uh... yeah. After marathoning the first 6 episodes of Series 4, I am totally on the Hal bandwagon. YIKES. O_o;;; Obsessed. So... this is mainly a bit of a character study/slice of life for Hal. I mean... I do love my angst, but he deserves at least a _little_ bit of happy... doesn't he? ^_~
> 
> Original tumblr post [here](http://eirenical.tumblr.com/post/43204794365/title-coping-mechanism-fandom-being-human-uk).

Routines. Precision. Focus. An obsessive attention to detail. A tightrope balancing act of care and dedication. These were the things that kept Hal clean, that held his bloodlust in check, that kept him from being a danger to every living thing around him, including himself. The days were long gone when he could live his life with any sort of freedom, when he could relax into his days and laugh with a friend... when he could lower his guard and let someone else take the reins from him for a time. There had been Leo and Pearl, once... but they were gone, now. Now, it was only Hal.

So, Hal kept at it, day after day, one foot in front of the other, one domino at a time. He kept his impulses in check, kept his life under a chokehold of control, as orderly as he could manage it.

Only, it wasn't so easy, anymore. There were new people in his life, now. Tom. Annie. Eve. And these new people... Christ. How had they even functioned this long without a keeper? They needed a keeper even more than Hal did... and that was saying something. He couldn't rely on them, couldn't depend on them, couldn't relax even one tiny fraction around them, and that need for constant, perfect control had been weighing on him terribly. Every day there was a new test, a new hurdle, a new challenge to his focus that he was only barely managing to meet.

How could Leo have left him here alone with these people? How? If he didn't find a way to cope with the insanity soon, he was going to go mad... and woe to the world on that day. There would be nothing left of it.

* * *

Hal removed a single domino from its case, placed it exactly, precisely, perfectly, in the center of the table. Two months without Leo. Hal lifted a second domino from its case, placed it exactly, precisely, perfectly, in the center of table -- spaced exactly, precisely, perfectly one and one half centimeters from its mate. Two months without Pearl. Hal lifted a third domino from the case and a fourth and a fifth and a sixth, placed them one by one -- exactly, precisely, perfectly in their places. Two months in which every disaster he could possibly imagine -- and quite a few he'd never even dreamed could happen -- had befallen his new home. If Leo had known what he was leaving him to here, would he still have gone? Would he have allowed Pearl to go? Best, then, that he'd had no idea.

Hal continued lining up his dominos, studiously ignoring Annie as she came into the room and stopped behind him, not speaking, not interrupting, just watching. On some days, Hal felt as though she understood his need for routines, his obsessive need for order -- else why would she make those endless cups of tea that she couldn't even drink? Because that was one of _her_ routines. On other days, however, it felt as though Annie wanted to grab him by the shirt and shake him until he became someone else -- someone less controlled, someone more fun... someone more like her lost Mitchell. And one of these days, her need for him to be someone other than who he was was going to win out over her understanding of his needs and she was going to upend his life whether he was ready or not. He could feel it. And like he had with so many other times in his life, all Hal felt he could do was batten down the hatches and await the coming storm. In the meantime...

Hal lifted another domino from its case, placed it exactly, precisely, perfectly, on the table -- spaced exactly, precisely, perfectly one and one half centimeters from the one which had come before.

* * *

Four months into living with Tom and Annie, Hal felt he was finally starting to settle in, to understand better how these two functioned in life and society. He still felt, more often than not, that they both needed a keeper, but he was beginning to trust, beginning to see why Leo had felt safe leaving him in their hands, beginning to see why perhaps it hadn't been a mistake, after all. 

His old routines were in shambles, overrun by Eve's needs, Annie's needs, even Tom's needs. _His_ precise need for removal from society was overlooked in favor of Annie's need for a second income to provide for Eve. His exact, perfect order had lost the battle with entropy by month three and had been replaced by this insane, cacophonous and sometimes joyous thing called... life. Hal couldn't put a finger on how Annie had done it, how she had managed to alter how he handled his condition and command it and him to work in these new patterns, but she had. He didn't always feel he could trust it, often worried that these new patterns would blow up in all their faces someday... but he couldn't argue that he was happier now than he'd been in quite some time.

He liked his new routines. He liked that his new routines didn't involve tasks set only for himself. They included activities like cooking, working in the cafe, doing laundry... watching Antiques Roadshow with Annie and Tom. Speaking of...

Hal picked up his last domino tile and laid it gently down in its place in the domino case, smiled as he wiped down the surface of the table and stood up. He glanced down at his watch. In precisely three minutes and thirty seconds, Annie would call for him from downstairs. In precisely three minutes and 35 seconds, Tom would yell for him to hurry up. In exactly three minutes and 45 seconds, Hal would answer them. In precisely five minutes and thirty seconds, Hal would be downstairs, jostling for a position on the couch and control of the remote. In precisely six minutes, they would settle in a row -- Hal, Annie and Tom -- with Hal firmly in possession of said remote.

One minute after that, the kettle would shrill and Annie would leap up to go make tea. Exactly ten seconds later, Tom would scoot over and claim the middle cushion, eyes dancing with boyish delight that would cause Hal to outwardly roll his eyes in disdain, but inwardly make him glow with happiness and conspiratorial glee. One minute after that, Annie would return to the sofa with three mugs in hand, take thirty seconds or so to grumble about boys and their jokes, then would settle down on Tom's other side and cross her legs.

She would have a smile on her face the entire time.

Exactly two minutes after that, Antiques Roadshow would come on and they would begin a friendly game of guessing the correct appraisal. There would already be a bowl of chocolates in the exact center of the table in front of them. Whoever guessed the closest on each antique would get to eat a chocolate.

After a few weeks of this routine, Hal had noticed a few things. One -- Annie could never quite participate. She kept it to herself, though, still enjoyed watching her boys enjoy the game. Two -- Tom was actually quite abysmal at this game. He had no real sense for appraising luxuries that he'd never experienced. As far as routines go, that was one that didn't please Hal. It began to feel, again, as though he were the only one participating, and that wasn't what these new routines were about. So, Hal had casually mentioned that it was unfair to force Annie to watch them eat all of that chocolate when they knew she couldn't. He'd gone on to suggest that he and Tom could eat her chocolate when she guessed correctly and that she could enjoy the taste through them. Tom and Annie been surprised at the offer, knew what a breach of privacy Hal would consider it to allow Annie into his mind like that. They'd been mortified that he'd felt he even had to suggest it. Tom had immediately counter-offered that he should be the one to do it. Annie had agreed.

And if Annie had figured out that Hal's suggestion came, at least in part, from a desire to see Tom get a fair share of the chocolate, she was discreet and kept it to herself. Tom was happy to be able to do something for Annie and was just as happy to get to eat the chocolate and Hal... Hal was happy to see them both so content. It kept him grounded, kept him controlled... kept him chained.

Hal smiled at the memory, glanced down at his watch, again. Ten seconds, now...

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

...One.

"Hal! Antiques Roadshow is on! Are you coming down?"

"Yeah, hurry up! Commercial said someone found a bunch of old shields they're gonna look at -- one of 'em might be yours!"

Yes... they'd chained him well, Tom and Annie. Only this chain was of a different sort than the one he'd crafted for himself. There was a flavor in it of what Leo and Pearl had tried to do for him, and had managed, but clumsily so. 

"I'll be down in a moment!"

This chain was crafted with love.


End file.
